


Fog As Thick As

by mlly_wright



Series: The Fog Collection [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Birching, Bottom Will, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Punishment, Rough Sex, Top Hannibal, Topping from the Bottom, consensual painplay, mostly in title only, there will be blood - Freeform, trying to top from the bottom, wrecked Will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 03:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlly_wright/pseuds/mlly_wright
Summary: The negotiation of pain is a tricky thing:  Hannibal will indulge Will, up to a point.  Which baffles Will as their entire relationship has been grounded in—or grounded by—the pain they inflict on each other.  Pain, both through accepting and inflicting is something both our boys need to navigate through the fog.  There just has to be a better way to get there without the two killing each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finally found the time got back into this series. I miss my oddly-constructed Hannigram verse so this has been a nice return. I have a couple of chapters drafted already so it will be posted in its entirely, in time—this fic will not go unfinished.
> 
> This is really not much more than PWP, especially these first few chapters. I make no apologies. 
> 
> [You do not need to have read the first entry of this series to understand the following. If you would like to understand the power dynamics between my version of the Hannibal and Will relationship, however, you will want to read Chapter 25 of “The Fog Dissipates”.]

Will sat back and drank down the cup of dark brew. It was way too hot and should have been sipped but as Will swallowed it down, craving the heat, he found that the singe to his throat was actually soothing. Not only did the taste of the coffee beans tamper his palette, the burn to the back of his tongue was grounding. And at that moment, he needed grounding.

Will and Hannibal had had another argument. They had been having quite a few lately. Though Hannibal calls them “polite disagreements,” Will sees it as argument, bordering on the edge of fighting. Will only left the house because his next step was to punch Hannibal, physically lay his hands on him, and not in an affectionate way.

He had run out of the villa and away from Hannibal’s request to stay. He was frustrated and knew that at this point, they had come to an impasse. There was no working with Hannibal concerning the subject they had been “politely disagreeing” over for weeks: the negotiation of pain. It seemed like an odd topic to argue given that their entire relationship was grounded in the infliction of pain both emotional and physical but yes, it was the topic they most disagreed on as of late.

The dissension has started a few weeks back. They had been having sex. When they had agreed to move to this stage of their relationship, it was with the understanding that Hannibal would introduce Will to the pleasures between two men, or at least, the pleasures that Will would find in his intimacies with Hannibal. And Will did learn, through what was sometimes an excruciatingly slow pace and what others might have interpreted as cruel lessons. But Will adapted to Hannibal’s instruction and not once did he disagree with the limitations and boundaries Hannibal brought forth—Will trusted the process. He understood that each and every act and type of intimacy Hannibal introduced was due to how well Hannibal knew him. 

And Hannibal used this knowledge well. He knew when Will needed to slow down and process whatever had occurred between them both physically and emotionally. There were acts of intimacy in which Will simply shut down immediately after in an effort to better understand what the act had meant. Because Will had to process: though Hannibal became Will’s lover and partner he never stepped too far from his former role as therapist. Hannibal believed their relationship could only succeed with complete, honest and thorough communication. It was, Will understood, Hannibal’s attempt at repenting for all the years he kept Will from the truth. So Will had accepted that part of the methods of this learning would be the discussion of all the pieces/parts afterwards: how Will felt the moments leading up to whatever was agreed upon and Will’s response after, and of course, Hannibal’s analysis concerning the actual moment of pleasure. 

Hannibal even demanded thorough discussion concerning the various punishments enacted upon Will’s body, something that had also been agreed upon between the two men. Hannibal was always concerned with the tolerance of which Will’s body—and psyche—could handle, how much further he could push Will before Will would break. They had not yet stumbled upon this limit, however, so what brought them to the current discord was puzzling to Will.

The first time Will can recall that brought the topic up for discussion had occurred one evening after an early dinner and drinks in town with the usual social group they had become accustomed to meeting. They stumbled home late, both men slightly drunk with a desire that was stirred early in the evening by the alcohol that was freely poured. Will had been rubbing against Hannibal as often as possible, teasing the older man with Hannibal responding in his own, subtle ways of touch. Will had finally leaned over and licking the outer rim of Hannibal’s ear had whispered, “Take me home, daddy. Show your boy how badly you want to fill him up.” It took Hannibal less than 5 minutes to settle the check, say their farewells and have Will abruptly thrust into the front seat for the ride home.

Within minutes of arriving at home, Will was on all fours, Hannibal behind him having begun the process of preparing Will for penetration. Will’s cock was dripping, as it always did when the tone of power came through Hannibal’s words. “Good boy, William. So good for me, taking daddy deep.” Hannibal had one hand flat on Will’s lower back, holding him in place as he thrust a finger in and out of Will’s tight hole, lubing him up, getting him ready to take Hannibal’s cock. There was heat, as if all of Will’s desire was pooled there, deep inside him. Will was whimpering, as was his habit any time Hannibal spoke to him in this manner. “Do you know how arousing it is knowing I am soon going to bury myself deep inside you?” Hannibal continued thrusting his finger, slowly adding another to begin scissoring to stretch the tight muscle. He watched his fingers disappear inside Will, the ring of tissue pulling his fingers inside.

“More, daddy. I need more. I need you inside me,” Will had wailed. He could feel the pressure inside, the pushing insistence, a violation from the digits that entered him. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, craved more. Hannibal continued to stretch the muscle slowly.

“Not yet, William. You are not yet ready,” Hannibal whispered, roughness in his voice that ran through to Will’s spine. He could feel Will’s hole loosening but knew it was not yet pliable enough to take his cock.

“Please, Hannibal. It’s not enough! I’m ready! Just get inside me for chrissakes!” Will cried out, pushing back against Hannibal’s fingers, needing so much more than the two, slim extremities he was offered.

“Shh,”Hannibal started, pulling his fingers out. Will whimpered again, loudly, at the loss. “Are you sure?” he asked Will, already lining up his cock with Will’s hole.

“Yes, god Hannibal! Just fuck me already!” Will started to thrust back. Hannibal stopped him with a sharp smack on his right ass cheek.

“Boy, do you need to settle yourself?” Hannibal had asked in warning. “I control when you receive your pleasure. Do you understand?” Will groaned, lowering himself down on his elbows, burying his head in his arms. It made his ass rise higher and Hannibal couldn’t resist: he spanked Will again, reveling in seeing the redness appear on the roundness of his ass. “Do you understand me?” he repeated, clearly waiting for a response.

“Yes,” Will had whispered through gritted teeth, the sharpness of the slap riding through him and settling in his balls causing a throb that made him shiver. Hannibal could tell he wanted to say more. He took note of Will’s restraint in this regard, wanting to remember to award him later. Hannibal didn’t want to eliminate the wildness in his boy, only tame it at certain times. Like now, when the precariousness of penetration came into play.

Hannibal smiled. He had Will where he wanted him, between his legs, ass in the air and ready to take him. With shortened preparation, he knew he had to go slow as he didn’t want to hurt the boy. Hannibal put one hand on Will’s hip to steady him, using his other hand to line his cock up, teasing the outer rim of Will’s hole. Without any ability to resist any further, however, Will closed his eyes tightly and thrust back, impaling himself on Hannibal’s cock. Within seconds Hannibal was buried deep inside Will, the feeling of fullness Will needed so desperately met. Hannibal let out a gravelly moan, Will screamed out loudly.

Will tried to catch his breath. Hannibal fell over Will, his chest against the younger man’s back. The sweat between them only served to fuel the arousal both held. “William,” Hannibal started. “You shouldn’t…” he didn’t get to finish, however, as Will, using all his strength to hold both men up, thrust his hips forward until only the tip of Hannibal’s cock was inside him. He then pushed back again, filling himself with Hannibal.

Hannibal lifted off Will, trying to steady himself without falling over. His cock deep inside Will was the only thing preventing him from teetering off to the side. The muscles around his cock contracted, the tightness in Will’s ass gripping his hardened length. Will felt the burn, the delicate tissue not ready for the transgression of the strength of Hannibal’s cock. He was moaning, pulling away and pushing himself back into Hannibal. He was grinding into Hannibal who remained upright. The older man let Will do the work, reveling in the power his boy was exuding, taking what he needed.

Will lunged forward slightly then pushed himself back forcefully against Hannibal. He shifted, rotating his hips to take Hannibal in deeper. “Fuck, Hannibal! You’re filling me up” Will sobbed, his cries sounding melodic to Hannibal. “The stretch is amazing,” Will had sobbed, burying his head deeper into his arms. He had stopped moving his hips and let Hannibal take over which the older man did happily. Keeping a steady pace, he began fucking Will earnestly. Hannibal ground his knees into the bed on each side of Will, fingers digging into his hips, bruises starting. He was fucking into Will with desperation, as if it might be the last time he would have the chance to bury himself inside his boy.

Will lowered his hips a bit as if to pull away from Hannibal. “Christ, Hannibal…it hurts,” he said through his teeth, still taking the pounding of Hannibal’s cock, his tight hole accepting the abuse. Hannibal had to force himself to slow down. 

“Oh god,” Will whimpered as he lowered himself to lie flat on the bed. “It really hurts.” Hannibal held his hips up so he could continue to thrust into Will’s hole. Will keened then, still grinding into Hannibal despite his pleas of pain. Hannibal pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip of his cock inside Will’s heat. “I told you, William,” Hannibal said. “You are not properly prepared.” He continued to thrust slowly, bottoming out deep into Will and pulling out again slowly. Hannibal looked down. “Will, we need to stop.”

Will moaned. “No! Don’t stop! God, don’t stop.” He got up on his knees taking Hannibal with him and thrusting back onto his cock.

“Will, you are bleeding. We need to stop.”

“No!” Will took over, pushing back, Hannibal’s cock bottoming out once again deep inside Will’s ass. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Hannibal.” Hannibal grit his teeth and closed his eyes tight as Will began fucking himself again on his cock. He was resisting thrusting hard into Will knowing that if there was already damage, aggressively fucking Will’s hole would only make it worse. “Is it as bad as our first time?”

“No. I do not expect a need for stitches but it is clear that you needed more preparation,” Hannibal said sternly, the struggle of resistance coming through in his voice.

Will looked over his shoulder. “But, you want to fuck me hard anyway, don’t you daddy?” he said, still pushing himself on Hannibal’s cock. 

“William, are you teasing me?” Hannibal asked, thrusting again slowly.

“Just do it, Hannibal. Please. You can’t stop now. I am fucking dripping here.” Will was pulling at his cock, stroking it in a rhythm to match each thrust into his ass. Hannibal started to pick up the pace, pushing harder and deeper into Will.

“Will, if I start…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Will was panting, lowering himself back into the bed and pushing his ass out. “You won’t stop. So don’t stop… just…don’t fucking stop”

Hannibal took a deep breath and pushed himself fast and deep into Will’s ass. Will screamed out, Hannibal matching him at noise level. The burn was excruciating to Will and Hannibal could tell by his cries that the slight tearing of tissue was not making it pleasant for Will.

“Will…” Hannibal began.

“No, Hannibal! Don’t you dare fucking stop! I’m fine! I need this, Hannibal. Please, don’t stop.” Will was pushing back on Hannibal, still taking his cock fast and deep, despite the pain Hannibal knew he was in. Hannibal growled, paused and then the desire to take Will whole met him and he resumed his thrusting, pushing into the heat of Will’s hole. The two were violent in their actions, each man matching the other in aggression. Hannibal leaned down and bit at Will’s shoulder. Will shrieked, his head in the air as Hannibal pounded into him relentlessly.

Will felt it then: the power surge through him. The edge that pain brings him to. He was floating. The harder Hannibal pounded into him, the higher Will flew. It was a high he chased constantly and could never capture until a moment like this, the moment when Hannibal guides him into that place of a physical connection to power. Will had tried to find that edge himself but he couldn’t; he needed Hannibal to bring him there. Will sobbed— the tears on his cheeks matched the wetness dripping from his cock. 

Hannibal could feel the heaving of Will’s body around his cock. He could hear his boy weeping but could not stop, could not slow down. The tightness of Will’s hole around his cock brought his pleasure to places he had never felt until he met the younger man. Matched to the way Will requested—demanded—Hannibal enter him in this way only fueled his force and desire. He wanted to rip Will open, to enter Will’s body entirely, to be able to fuck into him until he could reach his heart. And taste it.

“Hann…I need…harder…” Will was pushing into Hannibal, his ass in the air and spread open. Hannibal pushed in harder and began moving quicker, getting his grounding on the bed around Will’s hips. He tightened his grip and centered all his energy into forcing himself into Will.

“Oh god, daddy. I can’t…christ, it burns.” Will shifted. Hannibal didn’t know if it was to lessen the burn or get him in deeper. “Oh god…I’m gonna come.”

“William…” Hannibal started slowing down. He wasn’t certain if it was to ease the pain for Will or to prolong the edging he brought him to, as was habit. Will moved his hand from stroking his cock and reached behind him and grabbed Hannibal’s hip. He dug his fingers into the muscle and pulled Hannibal forward.

“No! Don’t! Keep…please just keep fucking me!” Hannibal returned to his pounding pace.

Will brought his hand back to his cock and started stroking furiously, his grip tight, as he liked it. He squeezed the head, fluid dripping from the tip. He needed more, however, his own hands never as strong as that of Hannibal’s. “Please, daddy. Please…I need…” He was lost in his headspace, unable to finish his thought aloud.

“What? What do you need boy?” Hannibal was panting heavy, struggling to hold back his release until his boy was ready. Hannibal always held back until Will was ready. After their first time and he reached climax before Will, his shame placed him into fighting his own release until Will found pleasure. Hannibal always struggled with his control when fucking into his boy. Hannibal growled, leaning over Will, his mouth close to his ear: “Tell daddy what you need.”

Will was breathing out a consistent grunt every time Hannibal pushed into him. The pace of it was so fast that he was getting lightheaded; he was barely able to inhale in between his exhale of crying out. Hannibal’s weight across his back and fingers digging into his hips brought his orgasm even closer.

“My…my cock. Please, Hannibal. Please touch me.” Hannibal reached under Will and wrapped his hand around his cock. It was hot. Solid. Hannibal could feel the blood pumping. He tightened his grip. “Oh fuck! I need to come…I’m gonna come. Please, daddy!”

Hannibal squeezed harder and started to stroke, quickly and aggressively. He whispered closely in Will’s ear: “Now, boy. Come for me.” Will screamed out a cry that edged pain and pleasure and Hannibal felt the spill of him over his hand. More intense, however, were the muscles that hugged Hannibal’s cock, pulsing around his stiffness and pulling his own orgasm out of him. Hannibal came then, the force of his orgasm almost detached him from Will but Will pushed back, not wanting to lose contact. Both men were loud, guttural moans in competition for power. Finally, Will collapsed flat, almost bringing Hannibal down with him. The older man caught himself and rolled off to the side. 

“Fuck.”

“Indeed, William. That was…aggressive.”

Will was panting heavy, trying to catch his breath. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Hannibal looked to his side and watched as Will slowly rolled onto his back. He moved slowly and Hannibal could tell his slowed movements were from pain. He reached out and grazed his nail along the length of Wills cock. Will hissed and pulled away. “What the fuck, Hannibal?! Damn! That hurt!”

“Just as I expected,” Hannibal said and moved to get up. He headed into the bathroom where Will could hear water running. He came back out with a cloth and handed it to Will. Will took it and slowly and very carefully cleaned off his stomach, his eyes on Hannibal the entire time. He handed it back to Hannibal and watched the older man head back into the bathroom. He heard water running again and Hannibal came back out with the rag in his hand again, Will assumed, rinsed and rung out.

“Please lift and spread your legs,” Hannibal said as he sat on the bed between Will’s legs. Will looked down his body at Hannibal and did as he was asked. Hannibal gently rubbed the warm, wet cloth over Will’s cock and then he felt Hannibal spread him open. He could feel the warmth of the cloth clean between his ass cheeks, Hannibal careful in his ministrations. Will watched his face; it was clinical and concerned, looking and feeling for any damage that may have resulted from their intimacy.

“Am I OK doctor? Think I’ll live?” Will asked, teasing in his voice.

Hannibal exhaled loudly and got up, moving to the bathroom one final time to rinse out the cloth and let it hang to dry. He came back to bed and crawled in next to Will. He moved to his back and felt Will curl into him. Will laid his head on Hannibal’s chest.

“I can feel your worry, Hannibal. Stop. I’m OK.”

“I am not happy, William.”

“Clearly.” Will sighed and rolled to his back. He stayed close to Hannibal however, refusing to sever the closeness. Hannibal learned early that after spending any time in his headspace, Will needed physical touch to ground himself again. Hannibal didn’t discourage it, as he didn’t want to know how Will would manage without that touch. He guided Will’s head to his shoulder and leaned over to thread his fingers through his boy’s curls.

“I will not break you like this, Will. No matter how much you push me to.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And what else, Will? What is the other rule?”
> 
> “Once we start, we don’t stop until you decide. You decide when we stop.”
> 
> “Very good, William. Now brace yourself.”

Punishment had remained on the table in the continually changing dynamic of their relationship. While the titles of daddy/boy fed both their desires, it truly had moved into a mentoring relationship with Hannibal guiding Will’s exploration and curiousness as often as possible, though reeling him back in where necessary. Will found that that while he didn’t seek punishment, some forms of discipline were rather well liked over others. 

Will did not like when Hannibal grew silent. This, above all, was the toughest punishment for Will to accept. Not too often, but often enough for Will’s liking, there would come a time when Hannibal would just step away and not say word to Will. In this way, Will knew he had done something wrong, had misbehaved in a way that Hannibal’s silent response had shown his displeasure. It isn’t that Hannibal detached from him completely but the distance that the older man would place between them—no petting, no random touches as they passed each other throughout the house—these were strong enough to prompt Will into apologies as he eventually curled into the older man’s embrace, seeking penitence for whatever infraction had occurred. There were simple rules that Hannibal had in place, rules Will had agreed upon, so the punishments that were vetted out were never non-consensual. He just accepted some forms of reminders over others.

Above all, Hannibal was insistent on keeping Will healthy. Regular meals and an adequate amount of sleep is what Hannibal had established early on and Will could hardly disagree that this was beneficial to both his emotional and physical health. His nightmares and nightsweats had lessened once they settled in Italy so sleeping through the night became less of a challenge. It was getting Will out of his garage and into bed that was. Likewise for meals; it isn’t that Will avoided eating—not with Hannibal’s chef skills—but there were times he gets so buried in whatever project he has going on that he tends to ignore the calling from Hannibal that food is on the table. 

It was one of those afternoons, Will recalls now, that prompted the second time the two men met with disagreement concerning this navigation of pain. 

Will had been in his garage since early morning and came back to the main property only as the sun was about set. An orange hue filled the sky and he couldn’t help but stop to reflect on the sunsets back in Wolf Trap. Like the country sky clarity, their Italian property left the sky open and without the city lights to obscure a solid, colorful view.

He came in through the back and stepped into the mudroom and nudged off his shoes. He stripped out of his garage gear, work clothes covered in the chemicals and stains of varnish, and put on the clean jeans and t-shirt that was left folded on the bench just inside the door. He smiled, knowing Hannibal had placed them there. Will always forgot and ended up strutting through the house naked to find clothes, Hannibal more than once forbidding him from trekking garage dirt into the house. He left his feet bare.

Hannibal was nowhere in the kitchen. Will found this odd as it seemed close to dinner and, based on the soon-to-be-setting sun, expected the older man to be knee deep in preparation for their evening meal. He headed to the living room and found Hannibal there, reading with a cup of tea balancing precariously on his knee.

“So, um…” Will began. He could feel a sense of tension in the air and started to backtrack through his mind trying to figure out what he had done. He somehow had known that Hannibal’s demeanor was due to his action—or inaction as the case may be.

“Yes, William. I assume you are hungry.” Will already knew that by being addressed with his full name, something was definitely not calm. “Especially since you missed lunch. Despite my texting and coming to the garage door to tell you that food was on the table, you still chose to skip your afternoon meal today.”

Will rubbed his hands over his face, digging his palms into his eyes. “Shit, Hannibal. I am so sorry. I didn’t even hear you.”

“mmmm. Yes. Apparently. And because you have now forbidden me from actually stepping into your garage, I was left to pack up the lunch I made for you. It is on the top shelf of the refrigerator should you still want something of nourishment. I have already eaten. You may come back and join me only after you have eaten.” Hannibal, dismissively, went back to his book.

Will’s garage was more and more becoming a very packed workspace since their arrival to their Italian property. Hannibal wasn’t supposed to know about Will’s new hobby of furniture making—Will wanted to surprise him with a completed dining room table—but he had discovered it one day when Will had not come in for dinner and Hannibal had gone in pursuit of his missing partner. Will was furious with the older man for not keeping out of the garage, a space Will was certain was way too filled with dog fur for Hannibal to ever set foot in. He had clearly been mistaken.

Will sauntered back to the kitchen and found his lunch, packed neatly and stored exactly where Hannibal had said it would be. He ate without tasting it—flank steak on a bed of vermicelli rice—cold, directly from the refrigerator. While he expected the meal was better heated, he felt regret for making Hannibal eat alone and this was but a small way of atoning.

Once his dinner—lunch, Will thinks—was eaten and the kitchen cleaned, Will made it back to the living room. His head was hanging low, regret in his walk. “Hannibal…”

“Don’t sit, William.”

“Look, I know we have an agreement…” Hannibal held his hand up, stopping Will.

“Go and choose your implement.”

“Are you serious?” Will had his hands on his hips. He was standing still, trying to not to reveal the skip in his breath, though they both knew Hannibal felt it. 

“I am deadly serious. You know the rules, William.”

“Dammit, Hannibal!” Will started pacing. “I am not going to stop in the middle of a project when I am working! What if I can’t stop? Things like varnish need to be timed…it’s not like I can step away.” Will was scrambling, trying to argue against what he knew was a well-deserved punishment. The reality was, he should have at least let Hannibal know he was working, not ignored him completely. And now, he was going to be punished for it.

“Would you like me choose your implement for you?”

“Dammit, Hannibal!” Will said again and left the room.

Hannibal waited for Will to return. He was pacing his breathing, trying to remain calm. There were two edges he balanced on: one of punishment, in which he wanted Will to realize the importance of stopping his workday to take a break and the other of desire, knowing that while punishment is certainly intended as discipline, he cannot ignore the nature of their relationship. No matter what type of chastisement he enacted on Will’s body, both of them were likely to become aroused. He had to remind himself that the lesson was key here, not in serving their desire.

Hannibal heard Will coming into the room. He closed his book and put down his tea. Will came over to Hannibal’s chair and stood solid. Hannibal stood up. Will held out his hands, presenting Hannibal with a bundle of sticks, clearly just pulled from one of the trees on their property. They were stripped of all leaves, various lengths around a yard long. 

“What is this?” Hannibal asked, looking down at Will’s offering.

“You told me to choose my implement. This is my choice.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You wanted me to choose the implement you’re gonna punish me with, right?”

“Yes William, you understood me correctly. But I expected you to bring me your belt or one of your paddles.”

“I choose this.”

Hannibal licked his lips, not certain he understood Will correctly. “You want me to use this in your punishment? You are telling me you want to be birched, Will?”

“Yeah.”

“Will, I don’t think you know what is asking. You have never even had the cane taken to you. Birching is very painful. If done improperly, birching can cause quite a bit of damage.”

Will smiled. “But you know how to use to do this without that happening, don’t you, daddy?”

Hannibal felt his knees weaken. He inhaled quickly, then caught himself, hoping that Will didn’t catch his reaction. He didn’t want the younger man to have any idea of how the idea of punishment in this manner was weakening his resolve. “Very will, William. Position yourself.”

Will walked over to his chair and stood in front of it, his back to Hannibal. He heard the older man leave the room, heading toward his office but had already returned by the time Will looked over his shoulder in search of him. He was watching Hannibal gather the bundle of sticks together and bind them with a band, most likely retrieved from his office.

“Undress, William. You know how this works.”

“Yes, sir.”

Will unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to his feet. His pants soon followed. He kicked them to the side nonchalantly.

“William!” Will jumped. “You know better. Pick them up.” Will sighed as if he was put off but still bent down and picked up his clothes. He folded them and laid them over the back of the chair. He looked over his shoulder at Hannibal. “I am not sure what you are trying to do here, boy. The punishment is coming, regardless. Prolonging it will do nothing to settle my frustration.”

Will sighed. He knew he deserved everything Hannibal was about to bring down on him. He walked forward and kneeled on the chair. He leaned forward then and lay across the back of it, over his clothes.

“Rise up.”

Will brought his ass up, toward to Hannibal, as if a gift. And Hannibal took it as so. He looked at the roundness of the two globes, muscles ready for attention. He ran his fingers down Will’s spine and watched the younger man shiver beneath them. He brought his palm down to one, rounded muscle and kept it there. He could feel the heat rising from Will and knew without looking that the younger man was growing erect; he could smell it. His own cock had been full from the minute he touched the bundle of sticks.

Hannibal stepped back and ground himself, legs spread for leverage. He weighed the cluster of sticks, bound by a band at the base and swished it through the air. He had plenty of experience using the cane, one single rod but it had been a long time since he worked with several tied in this manner, meant to cover as much territory as possible. 

“Do it, Hannibal. Just fucking…do it.” Will ground his face into his arms, bracing himself.

Hannibal let one hand drop and wrapped his other around the bundle of sticks. He brought it up high in the air and it came down, a swoosh through the air, not at all like the whipping sound the belt left or ripping sound Hannibal was familiar with the cane. With all the various ends and tips of several branches, it whistled. 

The bale landed across Will’s backside. The sound was like a clap, a symphony of applause, all the various lengths of sticks and twigs clapping together to land in full coverage on the seat of Will’s ass. While Hannibal barely brought it down hard, Will still jerked his entire body in response. He wasn’t sure of it was the sound of the birching or the impact of the bundle of sticks striking him. Hannibal had warned him it would be very different from the belt so he thought he had properly prepared an expectation for the moment contact was made. He was mistaken. While the impact of the clustered twigs and branches did span a larger space than the belt had, the direct brunt of contact spread into several slim strikes with the tips of each stick digging into the sensitive skin of his backside much deeper than the belt had. Like needles, each spot in which Will had torn a leaf or each bud left on each branch was felt.

“Christ! That hurts, Hannibal!”

“I warned you, William. You chose the form of punishment, yourself.”

“I know, I know,” Will had stammered into his arms as he buried his head in deep, trying to catch his breath. Hannibal let him rest a moment. 

“The rules, William. Tell me what they are.”

Will lifted his head high enough to be heard. “My…my health. If I cannot look out for my health, you will.”

“And that entails?”

“Proper sleep. Eat regularly. Every meal you make.”

Hannibal sighed. “I don’t know about every meal, Will. But you cannot go a full day without eating, especially when all you had for breakfast was coffee and toast.”

“Hannibal, it would not kill me to miss a meal or two.”

“Are you arguing with me, boy?” Will heard the growl and ground his feet down. He half expected to feel the bindle of sticks come down without warning. “Your health has not been strong in the past and I am not trusting that our swan dive into the Atlantic has kept you at full physical strength. I will not allow you to fall below the boundaries of physical abilities, not while I am around to monitor the feed and care of your needs.”

Will shifted. His erection had lessened with that first strike—he was so shocked by the jolt of the strike. Hearing Hannibal discuss his control over Will brought blood rushing right back into his cock.

“And what else, Will? What is the other rule?”

“Once we start, we don’t stop until you decide. You decide when we stop.”

“Very good, William. Now brace yourself.”

Will ground himself and leaned forward again on his arms, digging himself into the cushion. Before Hannibal could even swing the birch again, Will could feel droplets of sweat beginning on his forehead. He was concentrating so hard on trying to cool his inner temperature that he hadn’t heard the whistling of branches; the striking down of the bundle jolted him from both his thoughts and the physical space he stood in. Will jerked, crying out as he did. He had barely caught his breath when the assorted branches struck him again, digging into the tender skin of his backside. Will screamed out.

“Hannibal! Chrissakes!” Hannibal brought the bundle down again. The clapping of sticks struck Will and Hannibal watched the muscles on Will’s backside ripple. Will tensed and cried out, scrambling to move away from the clustered branches. Hannibal grabbed his hip and brought him back into place. Will sobbed, burying his face deeper into his folded arms. “daddy…” he whimpered, waiting for the next strike to come.

“Shh, boy. You are doing so good.” Will purred from Hannibal’s praise. Hannibal brought the bundle down again and watched Will’s skin flutter. He considered the mechanics of birching; with the belt, the strikes need to vary, as the leather will only strike the skin in which it impacts. Birching is different; the total of the bundled sticks spread once they make impact so there is no one repeated place on Will’s bottom the that bundle might land. Rather, the spread of stripped sticks spanned the width of Will’s hips and covered the full muscle of Will’s ass, from the start below his spine to right under the roundness of muscle where it ends at the top of the thigh. But because Will had brought Hannibal such a large variety of twigs and branches, Hannibal couldn’t control the direction of the branch’s landing so some did indeed, strike Will on the tops of his thighs, too.

Hannibal knew each strike was painful. Not only could he see the tender skin rise into swollen redness, Hannibal knew that each puffy strip would settle into a bruised welt that would take time to fully disappear. He expected Will was feeling the rush of endorphins and not aware of the ruin the birching was inflicting on his body. Hannibal brought the bundle down again, the whistling lost to Will’s shouts. 

Will winced as the bunch came down. Just as he thought about trying to escape from the various knobs and bunches of each branch, to move away from the cluster as it came down, Will began to edge. He could feel that place of flight his body and emotions bring him to when Hannibal walks him to that edge. He wanted to fly but wasn’t yet there. Will took another strike and Hannibal saw his response shift. He didn’t flinch away as with the other strikes but rather, moved into the bundle. Hannibal heard him mumble, his response buried in his arms.

“Boy? Say it so I can hear it.”

Will lifted his head. “Again, daddy,” Will whimpered.

Hannibal paused for a moment, not expecting Will’s request. He brought his arm up and then the bundle of sticks and twigs came down again on Will’s ass. Will hissed a response as his body lifted off the chair. His back arched, his lower half first moving away from then moving into the punishment. “More,” Will cried out. “More, daddy.” Hannibal honored his request by brining the bundled sticks down once and then again on Will. Hannibal could smell Will’s arousal and he knew it matched his own. The hardness he had maintained throughout Will’s birching had not diminished once.

Will lifted himself up and looked over his shoulder. With a clear voice and looking directly at Hannibal he said only one word: “Harder.”

Hannibal froze. “William?”

“Harder, Hannibal.” Will said with a clear voice.

“Will…”

“Please.”

Hannibal’s cock twitched. The request: so simple. So alluring. Hannibal placed his hand on Will’s lower back and eased him back down into the chair. “Brace yourself.”

Hannibal brought the bundle down with force. Will screeched, his body reacting with a physical lurch forward, burying Will into the chair. Pieces of twigs broke off and flew through the air. Will began to fly.

“Again, Hannibal! Harder!”

Hannibal looked down. The strike of branches on Will’s backside with the full force Hannibal gave it tore into Will’s skin. Where the small, stripped buds on each stick hit his skin, blood appeared. Small streaks of pink tinged Will’s ass, infused with blood droplets. “Will…”

“Please, Hannibal. Just do it…just fucking do it.” Will was pushing his ass toward Hannibal, as if willing the batch of sticks toward his body. Hannibal brought the lot back down, just as hard. Again, droplets of blood appeared. Hannibal’s body reacted, surprising him; his cock jumped, and he could feel the crotch of his pants dampen. The glistening of blood droplets made his mouth twitch. Will was crying out, asking for more but Hannibal could only hear the rushing of sound in his head, Will’s pleas muffled by his own uncontrollable desire. Hannibal lifted his hand that held the bale of sticks and with his full force, brought it down on Will. 

Will collapsed as Hannibal dropped the bundle. The air in the room was stifling. Both men were reacting in ways that portrayed their need: Will was flying, the usual fuzz in his head settling, his body tingling with endorphins. He lay across the chair breathing heavily, catching his breath as the fluttering of his heartbeat and the rippling of his muscles throughout his body tried settling into place. Hannibal, however, was scurrying. He had his zipper down and was roughly pulling his cock out of his pants. 

Will was struggling to position himself, first up on his knees then to a grounding position over the chair. His knees were shaking, barely holding up the weight of bones and muscle that were struck limber from the pain of his punishment. “Again, daddy” Will cried, softly.

“We stop, William,” Hannibal said gruffly, his voice deep, the desire evident in his tone, his hand firm on Will’s lower back. “We stop” he said again, quieter. Hannibal used one hand to help hold Will up, his hand moving to Will’s hip. His other hand, the one that previously held the bundle of random sticks and twigs used in Will’s punishment, was wrapped around his cock. Hannibal looked down at Will’s backside. It was wrecked: strips of red across both globes of muscle, across the tops of this thighs; puffy, pink and swollen strips that Hannibal knew would turn from red to purple; and finally, blood droplets from the buds and ends of the sticks scattered across the entire area that spanned Will’s backside. 

Hannibal held Will down and he began pulling on his cock, stroking it roughly. Will was crying, pleading with Hannibal to bring the bundle of raw sticks down once more. Hannibal could only hear the humming in his head, smell the scent of blood, Will’s arousal, his arousal, dizzying him. He pushed Will into the cushion, leaned over him and began stroking his cock over Will’s backside. His hand squeezed his cock tightly as he stroked himself from base to tip. Seeing Will so ruined, his ass covered in welts and blood, bits of branches and twigs ground into the tender skin and Hannibal jerked himself faster, tighter. 

“Please Hannibal!” Will cried, his hips moving, wanting contact, wanting more from Hannibal. “I need…I need…more…” Hannibal slid his hand from Will’s hip and using one finger, ran a fingernail across a strip of puffy, pink skin ready to welt. Will arched into it and shrieked and Hannibal’s breath caught. White hit his line of vision and before he could even make the connection, he was coming, his orgasm moving through him quickly, forcefully. His come covered Will’s backside, mixing with blood droplets and pieces of twigs.

Will felt the wetness, a thick splash hit his ass. He squirmed, the semen dripping down the roundness of his muscled asscheeks and in between his thighs. His erection, long gone with the hardest of strikes, was not missed as Will was still flying and couldn’t bother to care. He knew what Hannibal saw: his wrecked ass covered in red strips and now with semen. It made his floating mind and psyche soar higher—the dizziness was welcoming, the haziness of confusion satisfying. In fact, it was a satisfaction Will only felt once before: when fighting the Dragon.

“Hann…Hannibal,” Will started. He was struggling to stand, to ground himself after collapsing from the weight of his punishment. He could hear Hannibal slowing his breath, the fast panting from his orgasm beginning to settle. Hannibal was helping him, one-handed, to stand as he tucked himself back in, zippered his pants. 

“Can you stand?”

“yeah…yeah. I think so.” Will tried but stumbled. Hannibal grabbed him from behind and Will hissed, his ass grazed against the front of the fully-clothed man. Will felt like his skin was lit afire as his ass rubbed along the seams of Hannibal’s linen pants. He collapsed forward, into the chair.

“Will…”

“I’m fine Hannibal. I’m…it was amazing,” Will was saying as he steadied his breathing. He slowly attempted to stand again and turned to face Hannibal. He looked down and saw the front of him; his crotch was covered in blood and semen from when Will fell against him. “Fuck.”

“Let me help you upstairs, Will. You have open wounds and I would like to treat them now rather than later.”

“Hannibal…” 

“Will, it is in your best interest to stay quiet.”

“You’re mad,” Will had stated, allowing Hannibal to prop him up as they began moving toward the steps. Hannibal did not respond. The burn from the birching was beginning to settle into the muscle, the superficial pain shifting to one that he could feel through to his bones. Will moaned.

Hannibal held him tighter as they began up the stairs. Will leaned his head on Hannibal’s shoulder as they slowly moved into the bedroom. “On your stomach, please,” Hannibal had said quietly as he helped Will to lie on the bed. “Once I have cleaned and dressed your wounds, I will get you something for the pain.” He moved toward the bathroom for supplies. Will lifted his head as best he can. 

“Unless, of course,” Hannibal said from the bathroom doorway, “You prefer I only dress your wounds and let the pain take you? It seems to be your only concern as of late.”


End file.
